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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25332874">Snugglebugs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra'>Kantayra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Masters and Doctors in the Matrix [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who &amp; Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bets &amp; Wagers, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Denial, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor Eighth Doctor/The Master (Goo-Snake), Minor Fifth Doctor/The Master (Ainley), Minor Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm), POV Alternating, Touch-Starved</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:55:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25332874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Let us get one thing straight: Neither the Third Doctor nor the Master was a <i>cuddler</i>. They both enjoyed perfectly healthy libidos, of course, but they just weren’t the saccharine types. Really, they could go entirely without any such maudlin gestures of affection. Wouldn’t bother them in the slightest. And they <i>certainly</i> wouldn’t torment the entire rest of the universe while they clung stubbornly to this insistence. At all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Third Doctor/The Master (Delgado)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Masters and Doctors in the Matrix [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592659</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Snugglebugs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It all began thus:</p>
<p>The Doctor and the Master pulled apart with a shared sigh of satisfaction and immediately resettled into their favourite comfortable position: the Doctor on his side, nestled amidst the pillows, one arm slung lazily around the Master’s waist; the Master snuggled up against the Doctor’s chest, his head fitted perfectly under the Doctor’s chin, his free hand trailing over the Doctor’s collarbone.</p>
<p>As their heartsbeats slowed and the gentle rhythm of sleep began to slowly carry them away, the Doctor rubbed mesmerising circles into the small of the Master’s back, eliciting contented little murmurs from the Master’s lips. The Master, in turn, reached up to scratch his fingernails into that special spot at the back of the Doctor’s neck and earned himself a sound of abject bliss.</p>
<p>It was a habit that the two of them had sunk into countless times, and no doubt this time would have been no different, if not for the fact that the Doctor made the unfortunate decision to open his mouth:</p>
<p>“I’d never have believed it, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, that you were such a cuddler.”</p>
<p>For one moment, nothing changed in the peaceful post-coital scene. And then one of the Master’s eyes opened.</p>
<p>“What was that?” he demanded sharply.</p>
<p>The Doctor, of course, felt the way that every single muscle in the Master’s body had suddenly tensed, as if geared up for full fight-or-flight. “I just meant that I’m surprised how much you like it,” he tried to soothe, and moved to give the Master’s love handles an affectionate squeeze. “It’s a compliment.”</p>
<p>The Master darted out of the way of the Doctor’s hands, pulling back. “What do you mean <em>I</em> like it?” he demanded. “I would have thought it clear that this is all for <em>your</em> benefit.”</p>
<p>The Doctor blinked at him and frowned. “Oh, surely not,” he tutted, his own body tensing up for the impending argument. “I mean, no offense, my dear, but it is quite apparent, of the two of us, which is emotionally...<em>needier</em>.”</p>
<p>“I,” the Master bristled, sitting full up in bed now, the sheet defensively pulled up across his chest, “am not <em>needy</em>!”</p>
<p>“No, of course not,” the Doctor scoffed, sitting up as well, arms crossed across his chest in a huff at how ridiculous the Master was being, “you merely chased across the universe after me because you’re so well-balanced and independent.”</p>
<p>“I chased after y—!” the Master repeated in disbelief. His eyes narrowed, and a malicious little smile twisted the edges of his lips. “<em>You</em>, my dear Doctor, were the one who stranded <em>me</em> with you!”</p>
<p>The Doctor blustered in outrage. “Of all the absurd…!”</p>
<p>“Absurd? And then, once I’d got away, I couldn’t so much as start a scheme to conquer a planet, before there you were in that blue police-box of yours, materialising right in the middle of my plans!”</p>
<p>“That is not—!” the Doctor exclaimed. “The sheer audacity! The only reason <em>I</em> materialised was because <em>you</em> had deliberately set up nefarious circumstances that you knew would lure my TARDIS sensors in!”</p>
<p>“And who <em>programmed</em> their TARDIS to home in on situations exactly like the conquests I was naturally inclined to plot out?”</p>
<p>“And who <em>chose</em> their entire evil-villain persona because it was exactly the sort of thing I would be obligated to thwart?”</p>
<p>“I never!”</p>
<p>“Well, <em>I</em> certainly never, either!”</p>
<p>They’d leaned in closer with each accusation until they were nose to nose, eyes flashing. Typically this was the point at which either they were tragically interrupted (during their lives) or kissed (as, enjoyably, was now the more frequent occurrence in the afterlife).</p>
<p>However, on this particular occasion, the Master <em>also</em> made the unfortunate decision to open his mouth:</p>
<p>“Come now.” He offered up his hand in peace offering. “There’s no need for such hostilities anymore. Just admit that we are equal in this, and then we can get back to cuddling the way you like.”</p>
<p>Neither of them had <em>intended</em> for that to become the newest battlefield in the centuries-long debate between them, but that was what it had become in that instant.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I really don’t see the need,” the Doctor insisted huffily. “I don’t really fancy cuddling much at all, in truth. I merely engaged in it because you seemed to enjoy it so. But since you…”</p>
<p>“Absolutely do <em>not</em> enjoy it,” the Master doubled-down. “<em>I</em> was only participating because <em>you</em> seemed to like it.”</p>
<p>“Well, I don’t.”</p>
<p>“Well, I don’t, either.”</p>
<p>“Then I guess there’s no reason to cuddle at <em>all</em>, is there?”</p>
<p>“Of course not. Why would we?”</p>
<p>“Well then”—the Doctor yanked the blanket over his shoulder and turned to lie back down, facing away from the Master this time—“good night.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” the Master agreed, lying down on the other side of the bed, his back to the Doctor, as far away on the mattress from him as he could get, “glad we got that settled. Good night.”</p>
<p>The only problem was that, like this, it wasn’t a particularly good night for either of them.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>When the Doctor woke the next morning, he found that, in the middle of the night, he had – of course – repositioned himself so that now he was on his side facing the Master, hands settled comfortably on the Master’s love handles to hold his body close. For a moment, he was perfectly content, and then he remembered their argument from the night before.</p>
<p>“Ha!” he exclaimed triumphantly.</p>
<p>The Master blinked groggily at the sudden noise and gave the back of the Doctor’s neck a soothing scritch, trying to urge the Doctor back in close and warm and <em>quiet</em>. And then <em>he</em> remembered their argument from the night before, and realised that in his sleep he’d turned back onto his side facing the Doctor and nuzzled up beneath the Doctor’s chin where he fit against his chest so perfectly. He immediately pulled back as if burnt.</p>
<p>“Caught you in the act, you unrepentant…<em>cuddler</em>!” the Doctor accused victoriously. Admittedly, it wasn’t the greatest charge he’d ever levelled against the Master, but he enjoyed taking every victory he got.</p>
<p>“Me?” the Master spat back. “For all I know, <em>you</em> assaulted me in my sleep, taking advantage of my—”</p>
<p>“Innocence?” the Doctor scoffed incredulously.</p>
<p>The Master scowled; even he had to admit that that didn’t sound right. “Lack of awareness as to what I was doing,” he corrected.</p>
<p>“Oh,” the Doctor said sarcastically, “because you would <em>never</em> have gone along with it if you had been aware.”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” the Master agreed. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear last night.”</p>
<p>“Yes, abundantly,” the Doctor said. “You absolutely <em>loathe</em> it when I pull you in by the love handles.”</p>
<p>“And you absolutely <em>abhor</em> it when I scratch the back of your neck.”</p>
<p>“Because you’re a cold-hearted villain, and not a giant teddy-bear.”</p>
<p>The Master’s face twisted up into a furious snarl at that, before he spat out, “And <em>you’re</em> the self-sacrificing righteous saviour of the universe, and not a snugglebug.”</p>
<p>The Doctor gaped at him for one moment in abject horror, before snapping his jaw shut. “All right, then,” he agreed with that wicked light in his eyes that indicated that he had just come up with an especially infuriating way of defeating the Master, “let’s make a little wager of it, then, shall we?”</p>
<p>The Master’s brow furrowed: both perplexed and wary, because it was never a good sign when the Doctor got <em>that</em> expression on his face. “A wager, how?”</p>
<p>“It’s a simple enough matter to resolve.” The Doctor tossed aside the bedding, stood up, and was fully be-frilled again with merely a thought. “I think <em>you’re</em> the incorrigible cuddler, and you think the same of me. So we simply won’t cuddle at all, until one of us finally gives in. That should set things straight once and for all.”</p>
<p>“Just to clarify: you’re only talking about the cuddling after, correct? Not the sex itself?” The Master thought he did a passable job at keeping the sudden panic out of his voice.</p>
<p>“No, no!” the Doctor hastily agreed, sounding a big panicky himself. “The sex would still be allowed; only the cuddling is forbidden. I wouldn’t want to be unreasonable.”</p>
<p>“Of course not, you’re never <em>unreasonable</em>. Banish the thought,” the Master said with supreme sarcasm that seemed to go right over the Doctor’s head. Otherwise reassured, however, the Master considered the somewhat intriguing proposition. “What, precisely, would the winner get from such a bet?”</p>
<p>“The greatest prize of all, of course: knowing that they’re <em>right</em> and the other is <em>wrong</em>.”</p>
<p>An exquisite prize, indeed. A sly smirk crossed the Master's face. “What a very good idea,” he agreed far too readily.</p>
<p>“Of course,” the Doctor cut off the loophole the Master had immediately spotted (and intended to exploit), “to keep things fair, it will have to be just the two of us. We’ll sequester ourselves off together in a time bubble, so that you can’t run off to your <em>other</em> Doctors and get your fix from them on the side.”</p>
<p>The Master’s smirk turned into a scowl. “As if I would even need to.”</p>
<p>“Fancy your chances on matching your will against mine, <em>mano a mano</em>?” the Doctor taunted.</p>
<p>The Master stormed out of bed, materialising his own clothes as he did so. “Just as long as <em>you</em> can’t sneak off to find some pretty Earth girl to cuddle with,” he agreed. “Challenge accepted.”</p>
<p>“Good, then.”</p>
<p>“Fine.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The Doctor took them to Milvarius in the TARDIS, because he wanted to taste some lavender wine that the place was supposed to be famous for. The Master peeled off as soon as the Doctor got distracted, stereotypically, by a plucky young waitress from Earth, who would inevitably turn out to be some sort of freedom fighter or other. How the Doctor continued to be surprised, even though <em>every</em> pretty human girl he encountered was some sort of freedom fighter, was beyond the Master.</p>
<p>Normally, the Master would've nipped that sort of thing in the bud as soon as he saw the warning signs, but the Doctor’s distraction served his purpose this time.</p>
<p>His purpose, of course, was to find a way through the time bubble the Doctor had erected around the two of them, so that he could cheat his way out of their little bet.</p>
<p>The bubble was a simple quantum phase shift with some rather nasty infusions of anti-chronons that the Doctor probably thought made for a booby-trap, but just made the Master roll his eyes. Honestly! The Doctor had many talents (ranging from the infuriating to the exceedingly pleasurable), and the Master was sure his hearts were in the right place, but the Doctor just never had progressed beyond the basics of laying lethal traps, even after all the superb examples the Master had set for him over the years.</p>
<p>It might’ve taken the Master some little effort to escape the bubble in the Matrix proper, but in his own pocket universe, it was a simple matter to merely suspend the laws of physics long enough to step out of the bubble, and thence back to his mindscape in the Matrix.</p>
<p>He spent some time selecting and targeting the appropriate prey: After all, he’d gone without tucking his head under a Doctor’s chin and listening to his hearts for nearly two whole intolerable days now. Likewise, he had little time to spare before the Doctor happened to glance away from his new fawning admirer and realised that the Master was gone and hence up to something. In summary, he needed a Doctor who was tall, low-strung, and accommodating.</p>
<p>The Fifth seemed like the best bet.</p>
<p>He slipped into the Fifth Doctor’s room to find it dark and the Doctor sprawled upon his chest in bed, one arm stretched out across the neighbouring pillow as if missing his Master. The Doctor was unfortunately still clothed, down only to his braces and his stockinged feet, but bare skin was not required for what the Master had in mind.</p>
<p>Instead, he eyed that outstretched arm with predatory focus: how heavy and comforting it would feel draped over his body, how snuggly the Doctor’s chest would fit against his, how fresh and familiar the bare skin of the Doctor’s throat would smell once he’d nuzzled his nose up against it…</p>
<p>He placed one knee carefully on the edge of the bed and paused, checking that the dip in the mattress hadn’t woken the Doctor.</p>
<p>Sleeping beauty didn’t stir.</p>
<p>The Master scooted gingerly over to the Doctor’s side and carefully raised the outstretched hand. The Doctor mumbled two incoherent syllables in his sleep, causing the Master to freeze for one moment, but then the Doctor settled comfortably back into the pillows again.</p>
<p>Satisfied, the Master lay down beside him and inched closer, closer, <em>there</em>.</p>
<p>With a start, the Doctor jolted up, scrambling backwards before coming to an abrupt, relieved halt when he saw exactly who had crept into his bed. “You!” he accused, and then rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s you. Don’t <em>do</em> that!”</p>
<p>“Feeling jumpy, my dear?” the Master said with some frustration, and patted the mattress beside him enticingly. “Come back to bed.” The last was said in the most seductive purr he could manage.</p>
<p>The Doctor gave him a suspicious look. “Why do I have the feeling that this isn’t your typical pleasure-call?”</p>
<p>Damn, the Doctors all knew him far too well. He wondered how he could possibly have given himself away. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked innocently, hoping this Doctor would have one of his denser moments about the Master’s motivations.</p>
<p>The Doctor scoffed. “You can’t fool me,” he said haughtily. “I told all my selves about the bet, just to be safe.”</p>
<p>The Master’s hearts plummeted. “What happens between me and your Third self, need not concern us,” he insisted, and scooted closer.</p>
<p>“If you think I’ll help you cheat your way out of a bet with myself…” the Fifth Doctor began.</p>
<p>“Then I undoubtedly have another thi—,” the Master froze mid-syllable and instead said, “<em>whatever</em> coming.” He wasn’t foolish enough to get caught in <em>that</em> semantic debate again; last time, they hadn’t been on speaking terms for decades. Then he sighed wearily. “Must you be so insufferably arrogant about the whole thing?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” the Doctor insisted, “I feel that I really must.” Then he paused, a sudden glint in his eye. “Why?” he asked hopefully.</p>
<p>“Because, my dear,” the Master insisted smoothly, “you’re well on your way to earning yourself a spanking.”</p>
<p>The Fifth Doctor’s cheeks flushed, and his eyes went more than a little bleary. “And, then, the oral sex?”</p>
<p>“If you like.” The Master patted the mattress beside him again, hopefully.</p>
<p>The Doctor gave him an exasperated look. “No, it was an Earth pop-culture reference, see? You were supposed to—”</p>
<p>“I <em>plan</em> to,” the Master cut in, “give you a good hiding. Unless you’d prefer to go without?”</p>
<p>The Doctor gulped and nearly fell over himself with eagerness to strip out his trousers and get back in bed situated over the Master’s lap with his naked arse in the air. “But no snuggling, right?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely none,” the Master lied, and gave one of the Doctor’s cheeks a preparatory squeeze.</p>
<p>The Doctor’s eyes shut in anticipatory bliss.</p>
<p>Mentally congratulating himself on his masterful plan, the Master gave the Doctor’s buttocks a victory smack. After all, if he wore this Doctor out good and hard, just the way he liked it, he couldn’t possibly kick the Master out of bed afterwards, right? Right.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>An hour later, the Fifth Doctor kicked the Master out of bed afterwards, without so much as a pity cuddle, the absolute bastard. Honestly, the <em>moods</em> on that Doctor!</p>
<p>The Master grumbled to himself as he returned, grudgingly, to the Third Doctor’s time bubble.</p>
<p>“Hello there, old chap!” the Third Doctor sounded downright chipper. “Where have you been all this time?” What appeared to be some sort of sentient computer that had been controlling the Milvarians’ labour schedules was in the midst of its final death throes.</p>
<p>“Humph!” the Master grumbled sullenly and folded his arms over his chest, refusing to even look at the Doctor’s smug face.</p>
<p>“Doctor, Doctor!” the plucky young freedom fighter burst in. “You won’t believe it! It worked! The Imperial Conglomerate ships are leaving!”</p>
<p>“Oh, I say, well done, Aurlas! I told you, all it would take would be the appropriate application of pressure to—”</p>
<p>While the Doctor blithered, the attractive young woman, as all attractive young women seemed compelled to do, bounded over to the Doctor with arms outstretched. The Master, thoroughly on to this sort of thing by now, blinked her out of existence the instant before she fell upon <em>his</em> Doctor.</p>
<p>The Doctor sputtered at where his newest pet had suddenly ceased to exist. “I—What—? Was that <em>absolutely necessary</em>?” he spat at the Master angrily.</p>
<p>“Yes,” the Master hissed back coldly. “<em>Absolutely</em>.”</p>
<p>The Doctor towered up over him in an attempt to drown him out with righteous indignation. “You exchanged all of five words with her!” he insisted. “What could she possibly have done in that time to incur your wrath?”</p>
<p>“She was,” the Master said as heartslessly as he could manage, “about to violate our agreement.”</p>
<p>The Doctor paused for a moment and then seemed to remember. “Oh, that silly little challenge? You can’t be serious. If a trifle like that bothers you so much, here; we can have a good cuddle right now to make you less cranky.”</p>
<p>The Master had to marvel sometimes at how brilliant the Third Doctor was at giving him exactly what he wanted in the only possible form in which he would not take it. “<em>I</em>,” the Master sneered, “am not the one who was about to violate our rules.” As far as the Third Doctor knew, anyway. “Admit that you’ve lost this round and that victory is mine, and I might deign to grant your request.”</p>
<p>The Doctor fussed predictably at <em>that</em>—good, give him a taste of having such an obnoxiously insensitive lover! “I request no such thing!” he exclaimed, sounding perfectly scandalised by the thought. “And, besides, she was about to embrace me, not the other way around: I’ve lost nothing.”</p>
<p>The Master rolled his eyes. “Did you at least acquire some lavender wine?”</p>
<p>The Doctor scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “You know, in all the fuss, it completely slipped my mind. Perhaps we could make a stopover on Farcory II? I’ve heard they make a lovely malt with…”</p>
<p>“Fine, whatever,” the Master cut him off in a huff, and stalked back over to the TARDIS.</p>
<p>“Of course,” the Doctor said, with that look of superior satisfaction on his face, “I couldn’t possibly leave Milvarius in such a power-vacuum. With their leader gone, the rebels will have no—”</p>
<p>“I’ll bring her back the moment you’re out of her reach, and not a second before,” the Master insisted.</p>
<p>“Well…” the Doctor conceded grudgingly, and stepped into the TARDIS.</p>
<p>The TARDIS whooshed several times discordantly, as if in a mood with her occupants, and dematerialised.</p>
<p>A second later, and the plucky young freedom fighter popped back into existence, to find that the Doctor, his irrationally jealous boyfriend with the dreamy eyes, and that strange blue box had all vanished. “What the…?” she asked, bewildered, before her lieutenant piped up on the communicator and she turned her attention rightly back to their coup.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Five days in, the Doctor was forced to concede that this was not his most well-thought-out plan. Of course, he’d never been much of the planning-ahead sort; he was more the inspired-improvisation type. However, in this particular circumstance, the Master was surly and snippy and more trigger-happy than usual. Not even the Doctor thwarting him seemed to cheer him up. Of course, that was largely due to the fact that, even while thwarting him, the <em>Doctor</em> was also starting to feel a bit surly and snippy and more Earth-companion-happy than usual. It made for a poor mix.</p>
<p>The Doctor couldn’t help but notice, when he overthrew the Master’s vorlaac army on Tarvarine VIII, that he rather missed the way the Master would attempt (and inevitably fail) to loom over the Doctor’s shoulder from behind and lay a proprietary hand in the small of the Doctor’s back, while pontificating about his latest evil plan.</p>
<p>Equally disappointing, in the prisons of the Mining Syndicate of the fourth moon of Rhevius, was how the Master let his cyborgs tie the Doctor to the torture chair, instead of giving it his own personal touch. When the <em>Master</em> tied the Doctor in knots, he always took extra special care to ensure that the ropes were snug but not too tight, caressing the Doctor’s wrists lovingly with those softened leather gloves that promised such delightful torments. It always sent a shiver down the Doctor’s spine, to know how deeply the Master <em>cared</em> about holding him prisoner.</p>
<p>Most of all, though, the Doctor missed the gentleness that followed their victory-sex over each other. How the Master would cradle him close after taking him forcibly against the cell wall, or how – after the Doctor had thoroughly stymied another plot for universal supremacy – the Master would yield himself into the comfort of the Doctor’s chest afterwards.</p>
<p>However, as the Doctor’s pride was at stake, he certainly couldn’t <em>admit</em> that it never felt half as good when he scratched the back of his own neck as when the Master did it for him. The only solution, therefore, was to make the Master concede first, and quickly.</p>
<p>It shouldn’t have been a difficult proposition. After all, the Master was already close to snapping. All the Doctor would have to do would be to tempt him a bit, and the Master would coming running to him the way he always did, and then the Doctor would have his arms nice and full of warm Master again. Maybe, if the Doctor was feeling especially emotional, he might even admit afterwards that this cuddling business wasn’t half bad.</p>
<p>But first things first!</p>
<p>The Doctor was really quite proud of how easily he’d got them captured on Corriferous Prime. He’d always had a knack for swanning into highly restricted areas of totalitarian regimes, if he did say so himself.</p>
<p>When the Master moved to vanish the guards that swarmed down upon them, the Doctor simply coughed pointedly into his hand and said, “How about we play this one out, dear fellow? Should be worth a laugh or two.”</p>
<p>The Master grudgingly conceded with the slightest of inclination of his head.</p>
<p>The guards were not at all pleased at having their oppressive tactics referred to as “a laugh or two” and were rougher than strictly necessary; the Doctor had absolutely zero doubts that the Master would wipe them all permanently from existence after their little game had ended.</p>
<p>It all worked towards the intended goal, however, because just as the Doctor had hoped, the two them swiftly found themselves locked together in a tiny prison cell with only one cot.</p>
<p>The Master merely snorted at the sight of it and immediately began staring hypnotically into the security camera, undoubtedly attempting to bewitch the current guard roster.</p>
<p>The Doctor, instead, stretched and yawned pointedly as he sprawled back lazily onto the cot with a deliberate little fluff to his ruffles. He’d worn his softest velvet jacket in anticipation of this little trap of his.</p>
<p>The Master’s eyes darted his way once instinctively; the two of them never had been able to keep their eyes off each other, for romantic as well as self-preservation reasons. “Aren’t you going to even <em>try</em> to escape?” the Master demanded with one eyebrow raised in a mixture of amusement and suspicion.</p>
<p>“In a bit,” the Doctor agreed casually with another pointed yawn. “But I’m feeling somewhat logy at the moment, so why don’t you continue on with that avenue, while I take a quick nap?”</p>
<p>“I am the Master,” the Master informed the security camera intently, “and you will obey me.”</p>
<p>“Does that actually work?” the Doctor asked, rolling over onto his side so that there was just enough space beside him for another body. “Through the lens and all the mechanisms, I mean.”</p>
<p>“Sometimes,” the Master conceded sheepishly, when no fruits of his labours presented themselves. “It is a rather more exhausting endeavour, however.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps you’d better have a lie-down too, then,” the Doctor suggested oh-so-innocently. “Here.”</p>
<p>The Master sighed, still focused on the camera and trying to reach through it to any minds that might lie beyond it at the other end, and began to sit on the edge of the cot before suddenly realising what he was doing and jumping back up again.</p>
<p>“<em>You</em>!” he accused the Doctor furiously.</p>
<p>“Me?” the Doctor continued to lounge back innocently.</p>
<p>“Did you really think you could trick me so easily?” the Master scoffed. “No, Doctor, I will not be fooled into losing our bet!”</p>
<p>Oh. Well, then. There were always other ways.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>After the Doctor had escaped through the ventilation duct, overthrown the High Emperor by raising up a rebellion of the native Corriferan were-beasts to retake their capital, and finally come around back down to the prison cells to “open the cell door like a gentleman” for the Master who refused to “crawl through dusty service shafts like a savage”, the Doctor had come up with his next plan of attack.</p>
<p>“What do you think of a quick stop-over on Jontir?” he asked, setting the TARDIS coordinates even as he did so.</p>
<p>“Why?” The Master had his arms crossed over his chest and was looking more suspicious by the minute. “Fancy getting locked in a prison cell on a planet where the average temperature hovers only a few degrees above absolute zero?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I doubt we’ll get arrested on two planets in a row!” the Doctor pooh-poohed the very suggestion.</p>
<p>Fifteen minutes later, they found themselves locked in a prison cell on a planet where the average temperature was, indeed, only a few degrees above absolute zero. In point of fact, it felt rather nippier than even the Doctor had anticipated.</p>
<p>“Come now,” the Doctor pleaded with shiver, gesturing to the spot beside him on yet another rickety prison cot, “we’ll freeze to death if we don’t—”</p>
<p>“Cuddle?” the Master suggested wryly, arms wrapped around himself stubbornly, teeth chattering, glaring haughtily down at the Doctor like he was on to him.</p>
<p>The Master really was remarkably fetching when glaring down haughtily, the Doctor was forced to concede. If the Doctor had had any warmth to spare, it would undoubtedly have gone straight to his groin. “Dear chap, this is no time to be stubborn.”</p>
<p>“This is <em>exactly</em> the time to be stubborn,” the Master insisted.</p>
<p>Ah well, it had been a fine effort.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>By the time the Doctor took them to the rotating skyscrapers of Axary Minor, the Master had a knowing look on his face.</p>
<p>“If you want to”—the Master grunted when the room’s gravity realigned itself so they were sent tumbling together towards the far wall—“<em>snuggle</em>”—he caught his hand on the wall just in time, holding himself up over the Doctor’s body so that they didn’t touch—“you’re going to have to”—the room revolved on its axis again, and they went flying down to what had once been the ceiling—“<em>yield</em>.”</p>
<p>“Never!” the Doctor proclaimed melodramatically, and just barely dodged in time to avoid having the Master’s full weight land on a particular portion of his anatomy that would have been rather painful.</p>
<p>“I see right through your transparent ruses!” the Master accused, and huffed all the way back to the TARDIS, with the Doctor trailing behind him, trying desperately not to notice how soft and squeezable the Master’s love-handles looked all the while.</p>
<p>“You have?” the Doctor said, hopes plummeting. “And here I thought I’d been so cunning.”</p>
<p>“Ha!” the Master scoffed.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The Master was not doing well.</p>
<p>If someone had suggested during his lifetime that one solid week spent outside the curve of the Doctor’s arms would be his undoing, that someone would have found themselves maliciously shrunken to 1/500<sup>th</sup> of their usual body size.</p>
<p>However, that was before he’d become accustomed to a certain lifestyle. One became spoiled, falling asleep each night to the rhythm of the Doctor’s hearts and awakening each day to the feel of the Doctor rubbing soothing circles into the small of one’s back and making soft tut-tutting noises. The Master would never say that he’d become domesticated—such a statement would be equally punishable by TCE—but he had become, well, <em>proprietary</em> with regard to the Doctor’s affections. He’d earned them. They <em>belonged to</em> him.</p>
<p>And he was now doing quite poorly without them.</p>
<p>It had been easier, in a way, when the Doctor had been able to pretend he was breezy and unaffected. <em>That</em> had been rage-inducing enough that the Master had had no difficulties fighting off his more sensitive impulses. But the Doctor was looking just as ragged as the Master these days. Such longing in those eyes, that convulsive twitch of his fingers every time he was forced to stop himself from instinctively reaching out to touch, the slight creases around his jaw as if it pained him to do so…</p>
<p>The Master had been many things over the years, but never so cruel as to deprive the Doctor of the pleasure of his company. No, only the Doctor could be <em>that</em> cruel.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, he fortified himself against the Doctor’s obvious suffering now. It had become a point of pride. Too often in his life, he’d chased, sought, offered himself to the Doctor unselfishly and without reservations (beyond, of course, complete mastery of the universe). It was not a pattern he wished to establish in the afterlife, as well. Best to set some clear boundaries in their relationship. Let the Doctor learn to <em>ask</em>, rather than merely taking the Master for granted!</p>
<p>The Doctor would give in soon, the Master felt certain of it. The only issue, then, was staving off his own hunger for touch.</p>
<p>His failure with the Fifth Doctor had taught him much. If the Third Doctor had warned his other selves pre-emptively, then the Master was unlikely to have any luck there. The Doctors might not have been able to stand each other’s company for more than five minutes, but they were annoyingly constant in their morality.</p>
<p>No, to lure one of them against the fold would require drastic measures…</p>
<p>The Eighth Doctor sighed upon opening his door to the Master’s polite knock. “My Third self warned us all that you’d be coming, you kn—”</p>
<p>The Master took that moment to transform and, from his new position coiled up on her floor, thought at the Eighth Doctor hopefully: <em>Goo-Snake?</em></p>
<p>The Eighth Doctor’s jaw dropped, his eyes teared up with joy, his lower lip trembled for one moment in some vain attempt to keep control of himself, and then he caved immediately and fell upon the Goo-Snake Master in a passionate embrace. “Come here, you!” he cooed, and wrapped himself around the Master as if <em>he</em> had the serpentine body and not the other way around.</p>
<p>Cuddling felt…<em>different</em> when one was a goo-snake, of course, but the Master would take anything he could get at this point. He had one moment to bask in the absolute perfection of being surrounded lovingly by a Doctor, and then, alas:</p>
<p>“Ha! Caught you in the act this time!”</p>
<p>Cruelly, the Master found himself caught by the scruff of his goo-neck and yanked forcibly from the bliss of the Eighth Doctor’s embrace. He tried desperately to coil his tail around the Eighth Doctor’s wrist, but the Third Doctor had been too quick for him.</p>
<p>The Eighth Doctor looked thoroughly sheepish at being caught out. “He played dirty,” he offered to the Third Doctor with a shrug.</p>
<p>“He’s the Master.” The Third Doctor still had the Goo-Snake Master gripped by the back of the neck and held him dangling forlornly in the air in front of himself so that he could scowl disapprovingly at the Master’s deplorable behaviour. “Of <em>course</em> he played dirty.”</p>
<p><em>It’s hardly my fault that your Eighth self leapt upon me like that</em>, the Goo-Snake Master insisted haughtily. <em>I was just an innocent bystanding goo-snake.</em></p>
<p>“Oh, you’re such a cheater, and you <em>know</em> you’re a cheater,” the Third Doctor retorted sourly.</p>
<p>“Does this mean the bet’s over?” the Eighth Doctor asked hopefully. “Because…” He pointed hopefully to the goo-snake.</p>
<p>“No!” the Third Doctor and Master both spat simultaneously, as the Master had finally had enough of the Doctor snake-handling him about like a wet noodle and took that moment to transform back into his regular body.</p>
<p>“Oh,” the Eighth Doctor sighed in disappointment. “I’ll leave you two to carry on, then.” He shut the door behind him.</p>
<p>“Yes, yes,” the Third Doctor said, entirely oblivious to the fact that his Eighth was gone and not hanging on his every word, “I’ll deal with you later. <em>You</em>,” he looked down his nose at the Master disdainfully, “I’ll deal with right now.”</p>
<p>The Master licked his lips. “Will you, now?”</p>
<p>The Third Doctor’s eyes went dark and stormy then, and frankly the Master was impressed that he had the presence of mind to drag them back into their bedroom before setting upon the Master with all that pent-up fury. “I might have known!” the Doctor accused against the Master’s lips, before claiming them roughly.</p>
<p>The Master dug his nails into his palms to keep from clasping the Doctor’s head and body to him, instead forcing himself to lean back against the closed bedroom door, their lips the sole point of contact between them. “Now, now, dear,” he teased in his most infuriating tone once the Doctor pulled back, “let’s not be judgmental. Accidental slips have been made on both sides.”</p>
<p>“Judg— Acci— Slips! <em>Both</em> sides? I don’t even know where to begin!” the Doctor looked practically apoplectic at this, which was a much more satisfying response than even the Master had anticipated.</p>
<p>The Master found himself suddenly heaved bodily back upon the bed, and the Doctor atop him, kissing and biting everywhere, as close to frenzied as the Master had ever seen him. Well. Perhaps there <em>were</em> some advantages to driving the Doctor half-mad with longing and denial of touch, after all. The Master vanished their clothes helpfully, and the Doctor set upon him savagely, splaying his thighs and thrusting inside without the slightest thought for gentlemanly preparation first.</p>
<p>“You absolute fiend,” the Doctor whispered raggedly against the Master’s cheek, “getting your fix on the side, while I’ve been deprived…”</p>
<p>“Oh, so you do admit that you miss it, now?” the Master taunted, because he never had been able to resist the urge to push a Doctor past his breaking point. “Do you yield?”</p>
<p>“Never,” the Doctor insisted weakly, his voice shaking, an actual sweat broken out upon his brow. He was absolutely magnificent like that.</p>
<p>He lowered himself over the Master, then, so that their foreheads brushed, and held himself there. They breathed heavily into each other, joined intimately but more importantly with brows and chests and stomachs pressed tightly together. The Doctor made a few perfunctory rocking motions whenever he remembered that this was supposed to be viciously angry hate-sex, but they were both lying to each other and themselves. This wasn’t hate-sex. This wasn’t even sex. It was penetrative cuddling.</p>
<p>They cleaved to each other, savouring the warmth and reassuring comfort of every inch of skin they shared in common. Because, as it turned out, they both really did find each other’s bodies quite soft and sturdy, and pliant and unyielding, and above all to be the absolute perfect fit.</p>
<p>Neither knew how long they stayed like that, hands kept stubbornly off each other, but bodies touching in every other way possible. Maybe they came at some point or other, but neither of them remembered. <em>That</em> wasn’t the important part.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“We,” the Doctor finally conceded carefully, “have a problem.” He sat, beplumed again in his finest ruffles, upon one end of the divan.</p>
<p>The Master sat upon the far end, buttoned up to the collar, feet planted firmly on the ground, his entire body tensed. “So it would seem,” he agreed snidely.</p>
<p>“The challenge was a bit of a lark at first, but I’ll admit to it: a rather poor idea in the long run.”</p>
<p>“You don’t say,” the Master said levelly.</p>
<p>“We should end it, I think. I don’t think either of us is particularly enjoying it anymore.”</p>
<p>“Were we ever?” The Master raised one pointed eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Well…” The Doctor’s expression went sour for one moment, then conciliatory. “No, perhaps not.”</p>
<p>“Then I concede that your proposal…has merit.”</p>
<p>A look of unabashed relief washed over the Doctor’s face. “Oh, thank heavens. I was afraid you’d be too stubborn to admit defeat.”</p>
<p>The Master scowled over at him. “<em>I</em> am not admitting anything!” he insisted. “This is <em>your</em> proposal, so <em>you</em> shall admit defeat or nothing.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” the Doctor’s voice shook slightly. “Oh dear. I…” He coughed once. Twitched. Shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Opened his mouth once. Closed it. Open it again. Coughed. Adjusted the ruffle on one sleeve. Swallowed. Made a sort of prunish face.</p>
<p>“Do you even know <em>how</em> to admit defeat?” the Master finally demanded in exasperation, after watching the Doctor squirm for far too long.</p>
<p>The Doctor scratched the back of his neck and winced. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually,” he said, which was just about the closest thing to an apology the Master had ever heard from him.</p>
<p>“All right,” the Master sighed, and yielded just a little. “Let’s think about how best to resolve this.”</p>
<p>“Right,” the Doctor agreed.</p>
<p>“I’m not going to give in.”</p>
<p>“And neither am I,” the Doctor hastily added.</p>
<p>“But,” the Master said, “if we both, say, <em>accidentally slipped</em> at exactly the same time, then the bet would be over, but neither of us would have precisely lost.”</p>
<p>“Oh, surely that’s cheating!” the Doctor insisted, paused, and reconsidered. “I see no flaw in your argument, however. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”</p>
<p>There were so many flaws in the Master’s argument that he didn’t even know where to start to enumerate them all. It was nice to see that the Doctor was so desperate and cuddle-deprived that he ignored them all, however. Who said the Doctor couldn’t give a little in their relationship?</p>
<p>The Doctor coughed again. The Master managed to refrain from asking sarcastically after his health.</p>
<p>“Well, then,” the Doctor said, “shall we, er…begin?”</p>
<p>“Begin accidentally slipping?”</p>
<p>“Quite.”</p>
<p>The Master turned on the divan so that he faced the Doctor. “I don’t see why not.”</p>
<p>The Doctor’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he turned to face the Master as well. “On the count of three seems best.”</p>
<p>“I defer to your expertise.”</p>
<p>“On accidentally slipping?”</p>
<p>“But of course.”</p>
<p>The Doctor took a deep breath. “One, two…three!”</p>
<p>The Master tensed.</p>
<p>Neither of them had budged.</p>
<p>They both scowled at each other in perfect unison.</p>
<p>“I don’t mean to criticise, my dear, but we can’t both accidentally slip, if <em>you</em> won’t accidentally slip,” the Doctor said haughtily.</p>
<p>“The same could be said for you,” the Master retorted just as suspiciously.</p>
<p>The Doctor nodded, as if conceding the point. “Right then. We’ll call that a trial run. Shall we do it for real this time?”</p>
<p>“Yes, please.”</p>
<p>“One,” the Doctor counted, “two…three.”</p>
<p>Again, neither of them moved.</p>
<p>“Come now, Doctor,” the Master said. “Did you really believe I’d fall for so transparent a ruse?”</p>
<p>The Doctor sighed. “Yes, well, it <em>must</em> have been transparent, if neither of us went for it. Truce?” he offered.</p>
<p>“Truce,” the Master agreed. “Third time’s the charm.”</p>
<p>The Third Doctor grinned at that. “I’ve always thought so,” he said cheekily. “Here we go: One, two, three!”</p>
<p>And…</p>
<p>Both of them just stayed in their seats like stubborn, intractable idiots.</p>
<p>The Doctor’s face fell.</p>
<p>The Master swallowed visibly.</p>
<p>“Well, then,” the Doctor said.</p>
<p>“That’s that, apparently,” the Master agreed.</p>
<p>“I suppose we’ll just have to continue on as we have been,” the Doctor’s voice sounded downright bleak at the thought.</p>
<p>“It hasn’t been so bad,” the Master’s voice had gone wispy as well. “We still have the arguing. And the thwarting. And the sex.”</p>
<p>“We managed perfectly well all our lives,” the Doctor tried very hard to convince himself.</p>
<p>“Of course then we didn’t know what we were missing. But still. We’ll manage.”</p>
<p>“Absolutely. Since there’s no other option, obviously.”</p>
<p>“None,” the Master agreed. “Unless…”</p>
<p>“Yes?” the Doctor demanded hopefully.</p>
<p>“Well, perhaps – just to be certain, mind you – you might want to count <em>one</em> last time?” the Master absolutely refused to meet the Doctor’s eyes as he said it.</p>
<p>“I don’t see why not,” the Doctor agreed, also looking very pointedly away. “Not that either of us are likely to change our minds, of course.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, certainly not. We’ve both made our positions perfectly clear. It would be unheard of, for either of us to admit we were <em>wrong</em> at this point.”</p>
<p>“Agreed. But, yes,” the Doctor said, “let us do this one last time, just to make it official.”</p>
<p>“No cuddling at all, if we say no,” the Master agreed. “<em>Forever</em>.”</p>
<p>A hopeless look settled into both their eyes.</p>
<p>“Well, then,” the Doctor sighed. “It’s final now: One, two…”</p>
<p>They both tackled each other onto the divan before the Doctor could even properly get the word ‘three’ out.</p>
<p>“Oh, so sorry, I slipped!” the Doctor said, and wrapped his arms around the Master, clutching him tight.</p>
<p>“Me too, how clumsy of me,” the Master agreed, and nestled in closer, sneaking his head right in under the Doctor’s chin where it belonged. “Let me just…<em>there</em>!”</p>
<p>The two of them clung together in absolute bliss, touching and holding and fondling everywhere they possibly could. They snuggled good and long and hard and fast. They snuggled passionately, violently, rapturously, howling out their plaintive little sighs of contentment for the whole Matrix to hear. They came, cuddlesome, so entangled that it was impossible to tell who was using whom for a pillow, and who exactly was making those happy little sounds like sounded suspiciously like purrs. Most likely it was both of them.</p>
<p>And the best thing about cuddle-sex was that, unlike regular sex, it never had to end.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Days, weeks, months, years, centuries, and millennia later, the Doctor and the Master cuddled together happily, having just thwarted each other thoroughly and had wonderful make-up sex afterwards. The Doctor had relocated Bessie to the Eye of Orion for this very purpose and lay on his side in the back seat, one arm slung lazily around the Master's waist, giving his love handles the occasional squeeze, while the Master snuggled up against the Doctor's chest, his head fitted perfectly under the Doctor's chin, his free hand scratching pleasurably at the back of the Doctor’s neck. Both of them had absolutely idiotic, besotted smiles upon their faces.</p>
<p>“Do the two of you have no dignity?” the Sixth Doctor complained on the way by (it was, after all, a favourite parking spot for Doctors). “I believe the proper Earth expression is: Get a room!”</p>
<p>“No!” the two them snapped at him in unison, and then gave each other even more undignified nose kisses.</p>
<p>The Sixth Doctor grumbled and stalked off, feeling vaguely queasy. “Absolute preposterous behaviour! Would it kill me to learn just a bit of self-control?” he muttered under his breath.</p>
<p>Little did he know that the answer to his question was a firm “yes.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <h2>Epilogue 1: Ten/Simm!Master</h2>
</div><p>“I just heard the most intriguing thing, talking to myself the other day,” the Eighteenth Master commented casually. “Did you know that my Thirteenth and your Third dared each other how long they could go without touching properly? They didn’t even make it a week and a half. And, well, you’ve seen how they are since. Do you think we could beat their record if we tri—”</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>!” the Tenth Doctor insisted vehemently, suddenly plastered against the Master so hard that his voice might technically have been coming from inside the Master’s ribcage. “Didn’t last a millisecond. I lose; you win; end game; well played.”</p>
<p>The Master wheezed a little at suddenly being wrapped in impenetrable coils of Doctor-limbs. “Will you at least allow me to <em>breathe</em>?” he demanded.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Am I going to need a jimmy to pry you off?”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” the Doctor insisted stubbornly, still clinging to him like a limpet.</p>
<p>“Oh. Well, then. I suppose that’s all right.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <h2>Epilogue 2: Eight/Goo-Snake</h2>
</div><p>The Master took one long moment to luxuriate in being unconditionally loved. And then, because he just couldn’t help but wonder: <em>You really are enjoying this, aren’t you?</em></p>
<p>The Eighth Doctor planted an adoring kiss atop his goo-snake’s head and clutched the Master tighter to his chest. “This is perfect. <em>You’re</em> perfect.”</p>
<p><em>Oh</em>, the Master thought, in what was rapidly becoming a recurring mental pattern for Masters with particularly strange Doctors. <em>Well, then. I suppose that’s all right.</em> And returned to being snuggled like he was the most precious goo-snake in all the universe.</p>
<p>After all, after the latest fiasco, if <em>any</em> Doctor had earned himself a nice, lazy afternoon in bed with a goo-snake, it was certainly the Eighth.</p>
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